Painful Memories
by WastedJamie
Summary: The boys struggle with a difficult day and a clueless John.


Dean and Sam were irritable today. Of course having two teenage boys I know this is par for the course but there is something about today that seems; I don't know, just really off.

Just a few days until Sam's fourteenth birthday and I swear he's getting more surely by the day. The older he gets the more he resents the fact he'll always be the youngest Winchester thereby having to take orders not only from me but from Dean too.

Poor Dean. He's still just a kid himself, although he'll argue that point with me every chance he gets, I can see that he's struggling with how to deal with this new "brooding teenage Sammy". Hell we both are.

But again, today feels different to me and I can't quite put my finger on it. As soon as the sun started peaking through the musty old curtains the boys were at each other's throats, which was odd. Dean usually has a little more patience with Sammy and this level of angst typically doesn't start until later in the day.

"I'm not going to tell you again Sam – move your stupid gigantor ass _over_ and quit hogging all the freaking covers!" Dean emphasized his last statement by yanking the sheets over his shoulder and curling into them leaving Sammy's 5'11 behind to hang in the breeze. The boy had hit an incredible growth spurt over the past few months and was not the same height as his brother, much to said brother's chagrin.

"God Dean! I'm as far over as I can get without falling on the freaking floor. Why don't _you_ move over you stupid jerk; and give me my covers back. I'm freezin over here! The wrestling match over the sheets continued.

"Why don't you just shut your pie-hole before I do it for you?" _Yank._

"Why don't you go screw yourself?" _Tug._

"Argh!" Dean shrieked. "Dude! Get your freakin foot off me! It's freezing!"

"Well it wouldn't be if I had some stupid sheets Einstein!"

The sound of foot kicking leg and then fist hitting shoulder and the scuffle that ensued thereafter had me sighing in exhausted frustration as I tossed my own covers aside. So much for "sleep in Sunday".

"Knock it off; both of you" I growled as I hauled Dean off Sam by the waist not so gently deposited him onto my bed. "It's too God damn early for this shit." Sam shot me his classic "What did I do look" and Dean tossed me a rare scowl as I stood between the two beds. "Now _you_ stay there and don't move." I said picking up Dean pillow and throwing it at him. "And _you_" I said turning back to Sam, throwing the comforter back onto his side" quit whining and go back to sleep. And I swear boys; if I hear _one_ more word out of either one of you before I've had my coffee you're both going to be sorry. You hear me?" It's not a common occurrence but when they behave like this I have been know to dole out a good wallop or two and both of them know it.

"Yes Sir" Dean huffed as he rolled over.

"Sorry Dad" Sam said softly as he scooted back down beneath the sheets.

"Good." I said making my way over to the bathroom and slamming the door. Please God let there be hot water this morning. The whispers were low but I still heard them.

"Nice going asshat; you pissed off Dad."

"Me? You're the one who started it – dumbass."

"Shut up - Bitch!"

"Stop telling me what to do - Jerk!"

"BOYS!"

Two hours of blissful peace and quiet passed before the boys began to stir again. With a good hot shower and almost a full pot of coffee under my belt my mood had improved ten fold.

I stared at Dean as he shuffled his way over to the coffee pot desperate for his morning fix before having to deal with Sam again. He looked tired way younger than his 18 years in his light grey t-shirt, faded jeans and stocking feet. He hadn't shaven yet, not that it really mattered, and his hair was sticking up on ends but he was still one hell of a good looking kid. My boy; my beautiful boy. Every inch of him reminded me of Mary right down to the look he shot me when he noticed me eyeing him up.

"What?" he asked still a little grumpy as he filled his mug to the rim with the steaming hot liquid. He used to put milk in it when he was younger until he noticed that I took it black. He didn't think I noticed the switch, but I did. I see and am aware of a lot more than these two give me credit for but I can't let them know that. Can't let them know that I know every move they make; everything they do. Can't let them know how much in tune I am with them; how much I worry about them.

He shifted uncomfortably; not liking being the sole object of my attention. At 145lbs and 5'11 he was smaller than I was at his age and I doubted that he would ever surpass me in height and weight.

"When was the last time you ate a decent meal?" I asked my son as I watched him dig his hand into what was most likely a stale box of Coco Puffs. He shoveled a handful of the sugary chemicals into his mouth.

"What are you talking about?" He mumbled before washing them down with a swig of coffee. "I'm havin breakfast. Breakfast is a decent meal."

I shook my head, eighteen with the pallet of a six year old. "Dean, stale Coco Puffs and coffee is not breakfast and it's hardly what I would classify as a decent meal for a kid who's still growing. When was the last time you actually ate something healthy?"

His brows drew together in a look of confusion and obvious irritation at being called a kid. I think the boy sometimes forgets that I'm his father and yeah - his wellbeing _is_ actually still my business. Always will be no matter how old he gets. He contemplated my question for a moment before he responded.

"Um, just yesterday I had lettuce and tomato on my burger." He said somewhat satisfied with himself as he shoveled another handful of straight sugar into his mouth. Terrific, my son thinks garnishments on a burger count as a healthy meal. Bang up job your doing as a father John, I scolded myself.

"No you didn't." Sam enlightened us as he barged his way into the tiny kitchen dressed exactly like Dean. The two of them eyed each other briefly before Dean gave Sam his "what the fuck" look as he stood up from the counter and rubbed a self conscious hand down his own grey t-shirt. Sam just shrugged and went on talking oblivious Dean's obvious dissatisfaction with his choice of clothes.

"You scraped all that stuff off and asked for extra bacon and cheese; remember?"

Dean's mood flipped again as he shot daggers at his little brother. He roughly shouldered past him on his way back to the coffee pot for round two; knocking the younger boy out of his way. Sam may be the same height as him but Dean still had a good 25lbs on him.

"Ow! Watch where you're going dumbass!"

"Why don't you just shut up and mind your own damn business Sam. Nobody asked you."

"Why don't you?" Sam shot back in all his snotty teenage glory. I felt my blood pressure beginning to rise again.

"That makes no sense Sam. Dad and I were talking and you just butted in."

"You make no sense - jerk."

"Yeah, well your _life_ makes no sense - bitch."

"Ok, that's enough." I interjected in my best no nonsense voice before things got ugly again. I stood and muscled myself in-between my two precious offspring grabbing the mug and cereal box out of Dean's hand before he could pollute his young body with any more crap. Two sets of skeptical green eyes stared back at me awaiting my next move. Strike two and it wasn't even noon yet.

What a sorry state these two were. Sam's skeptical look immediately melted into a scowl and Dean looked at me as if I just took his favorite toy and tossed it straight into the fire. Both still looked tired and just a little too thin for my liking.

"Sam; go change." I ordered.

"What? Why? Today is Sunday!" he whined. "You said last night - no you _promised _last night that we didn't have to train today. I haven't even had breakfast yet! You said…"

I cut him off before he pushed me to a point of no return. "I know what I said Sam and no we're not training. We're going out for breakfast. Go change your shirt so I can tell you two apart. I want to see you two eat a decent meal with my own two eyes. Now go!" I said feeling my own blood sugar dropping and my good mood starting to slip. Sam stopped and shot his brother a worried look.

I noticed Dean's posture stiffened immediately. What the hell is going on with these two today?

"Dad, we're fine." My boy said trying unsuccessfully to keep the hitch out of his voice. "We don't need to go out, ok? I'll just; I'll make some eggs or something." He said as he tried to head over to the fridge. I'll even have a glass of milk; all right? Sammy will too."

Ok, something was definitely up. Dean never turned down a meal out with the family; _ever_. Especially not an all you can eat breakfast buffet.

"Dean", I said gently grabbing his arm halting any further movement. "Just go get your shoes on and we'll go out; ok? I want you two to have more than a few eggs and milk." 'sides with the mood you're in today I need to make sure your don't poison your brother." I joked, trying to lighten the mood bit.

"I don't wanna go out." He said his tone suddenly angry again as he yanked his arm out of my hand. "We're fine Dad; right Sammy?"

Sam looked between the two of us clearly not knowing what to say or do. After a brief moment I guess the death glare from his brother had more impact on him than the confused stare of his father because he immediately took Dean's side, as usual.

"Uh, yeah Dad, come on. We'll have a nice leisurely breakfast here. Let's just stay in and relax –ok?" My youngest looked uncomfortable - like he didn't really want to say what was coming out of his mouth; which was a first. His big green eyes peered up at me from under his bangs practically pleading with me to just let it go. I was at a loss here so I reverted back to what I did best. Giving orders.

"No, not ok Sam. Look, the two of you have been eating nothing but pizza and crap for the past three weeks. You're tired and run down and irritable as hell today and you need a good balanced meal. Now we're going out, you're getting something healthy to eat, and you're going to stop fighting with each other and giving me lip. Understood?"

Dean started to protest again and I felt the last of my patience dissolve. I quickly put my hand over his mouth, pinning him back up against the counter. Before Sam could finish his _"God Dad, why do you have to be such a hard ass all the time"_ comment I pulled him in close by his arm.

"Ok, you know what?" "I don't know what's going on with the two of you or why you're at each other's throats today or why you don't want to leave this room but I'm telling you right now - this shit is going to stop!" "Sam" I said glaring at my youngest giving his arm a slight shake. "You're going to go and change your shirt and Dean." I said turning my eyes on my eldest. "You're going to go and get your shoes on and the two of you are going to get your butts in the car and we are going to go out for a nice family breakfast. Now move!"

Dean yanked his face out from under my hand without a word and grabbed his brother, shoving him out the door with a stormy look.

I followed; lifting my keys off the hook as I headed outside with another frustrated sigh to wait for my boys. Christ I didn't realize that wanting to take your kids out for breakfast was considered a form of teenage torture now days.

The parking lot of the first place we came upon was packed so we continued up the road for another few miles. The boys were both quiet for a change but it wasn't a content quiet. I wish I could figure out what the hell was making Dean so uncharacteristically pissy and Sam so exceptionally moody. They were acting like a bunch of cranky two year olds.

The second place I found was still crowded but at least I could find a place to park so I pulled in. Jesus, it looked like the whole world was out for breakfast today. I guess this is what normal people do on Sundays.

I got out of the car and started walking towards the entrance. I must have taken about ten steps before I realized that neither boy was in tow like they should be. Beyond frustrated at this point I turned back to the car. "What is going on with you two today? Out. Now." I demanded. Sam immediately complied, not wanting to get to "strike three" in the middle of the parking lot but Dean sat un-phased by my tone.

"Dean…" I warned opening the passenger door.

He turned to me; his eyes glassy. Jesus was he going to cry?

"I.. I don't feel so good Dad, can we please just go back to the room; please?" he practically begged.

Worry began to set in as I placed the back of my large hand on his forehead. But just as soon as it came it disappeared as I noted the cool 98.6. Over the years my hand had become more reliable than any thermometer and I knew when the boys were really ill and when they were faking. I'm not sure why Dean was trying something so juvenile today.

"Dean you're not sick son. Now cut the crap and either tell me what the hell has gotten into you and your brother or let's go." I said moving to the side to make way for his exit. Either way he was going to get his butt out of that car and we were going to discuss this.

No response. Ok, enough playing around. Looks as though "Mad Dad" was going to be joining us for breakfast this morning.

"Sammy, go inside and get us a table ok? Your brother and I will be in in a sec."

The poor kid looked back and forth between his brother and I so many times I thought his head was going to roll off his shoulders as he struggled with what to do.

"Go on son." I said making the decision for him. He knew better than to argue with me in the mood I was in but the look on face wasn't really one that was spoiling for a fight. It was one that I hadn't seen on him since he was a young boy - sad, uncertain and vulnerable.

I turned my full attention back to Dean as soon as I saw Sam safely entered the restaurant. In one fell swoop I hauled him out of the car by the collar of his jacket and kicked the door shut with my foot as I maneuvered myself in front of him. The kid looked worried that I was going to hand him his ass right then and there and as tempting as that was right now I decided to tone it down a notch to see if he would spill. I gently placed my arm on top of the Impala shifting into his personal space. He hates when I do this but it usually gets him talking.

"Talk to me Dean."

"I just don't want to go out today; ok?"

"How come?" I asked still confused as hell.

He shrugged his shoulder and dug his hands into his pockets unable to answer me.

"Are you not hungry? Does your stomach hurt?" I tried. He shook his head no.

"Did Sammy do or say something that's got you upset?" Another slight shake no.

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" I dropped my tone letting him know that if he had done something wrong that he need to tell me right the fuck now.

"No, Dad I swear it's nothing like that. Its just….today…" He dropped the back of his head against the door in frustration staring at the sky. Talking was hard for Dean. Had been ever since he lost his mother so I gave him a moment - to finish what he started saying - but he just continued to stare into the clouds.

I rubbed my hand down my weary face. "Look, son, if you can't tell me what's going on then we're going in. Its just breakfast for God sakes; thirty minutes tops. I promise."

His eyes met mine again desperately wanting to tell me something but his mouth just wouldn't let him talk. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and he hung his head in defeat. Gently I started steering him towards the restaurant. "Come on, I'll even let you have some more coffee; ok?"

We found Sammy sitting at the table with his head down. He looked up at Dean as we approached hoping to find some sort of affirmation that he was ok but he was met with the same blank stare that I was getting. As soon as we settled the waitress came bustling over.

"Hi boys, my name is Kelly and I'm going to be taking care of you today." She said with a sunny voice, which had Dean rolling his eyes. I nudged his foot with my boot reminding him to mind his manners.

She gave us all the once over and a smile as she handed each of us a menu; leaving an extra one at the empty place setting next to mine. Before I could say that it was just the three of us she asked a question that instantly rocked my world. All the puzzle pieces suddenly came crashing together.

"Do you want to wait for mom to come back before your order your drinks or do you know what she wants?"

Both boys stiffened and I have to admit that I sat a little taller in my now very uncomfortable chair.

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Your wife honey. Do you know what she wants to drink or should I come back?" She asked again cracking her gum.

"My mom's dead." Sam blurted out and Dean looked like he was about to get sick. He pushed his chair back and headed for the exit.

"Oh my God, I'm so terribly sorry!" She stammered. "It's just with it being Mother's Day and all I just assumed you were all here to…."

Fuck. It was Goddamn Mother's Day? I quickly glanced around the restaurant now noticing for the first time the other occupants. Each table had a mother an aunt or a grandmother. Some even had all three, smiling away and laughing; enjoying their special day while their family doted on them; showering the women with smiles, cards and flowers. Everything was pink and cheerful and happy and I felt like the worlds largest ass as I looked at poor Sammy struggling hard to keep his emotions in check. I gave him a slight nod and he bolted from the table to join Dean outside.

I cleared my throat as best I could, considering the large lump that had now formed in it.

"s'ok sweetheart, you didn't know." I said standing and placing a hand on her slight shoulder. "I uh, I just; we need to go. Sorry."

I made my way out the door not knowing exactly what I was going to say to my boys once I found them. _If _I found them. It wouldn't have surprised me in the least if the two of them had decided to take off and leave my stupid, sorry, insensitive ass here. With a sigh of relief I spotted the car and my two boys leaning against the hood; shoulders touching with nonverbal, emotional support for one another; the fight in each of them gone.

They didn't look at me as I stopped and stood in front of them. Sammy looked over at Dean trying to get a read on what he should do but Dean just continued to look off the side trying his hardest to just disappear.

"Boys." I said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…" God this was hard. "I didn't know it was…."

"s'ok Dad." My Sammy said trying to let me off the hook. Sorry son, this is one I'll be dangling from for weeks to come.

"No Sammy; it's not ok." I found myself saying for the second time this morning, the meaning behind this statement being worlds apart from the first. "I'm so, so sorry." I hung my head not being able to look at them.

Without warning my baby tackled me, throwing his arms around my waist and burying his head into my shoulder. I froze for a moment not knowing what to do. It had been so very long since I had held him this way but my fatherly instinct suddenly came flowing back and I immediately wrapped my arm around his shaking shoulders and held him as he began to cry.

Dean just stood and watched the scene unfold before him not knowing exactly how to react. Mother's Day had always especially hard on him and I could kick myself for my ignorance. He was old enough, when Mary died, to remember what it was actually like to have a mom, all the love, the laughter, her soft touch and sweet smell. The day she died a part of him died with her and left a hole so big that no one would ever be able to fill it. Not even Sammy. I could see the pain in his eyes as they began to fill with water and I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned forward and pulled him in tight. He resisted for just a moment but his emotions got the best of him and he too just melted into my chest.

I stood there for God knows how long holding my children tight not ever wanting to let them go. Even though my own heart was breaking for the loss of my beloved Mary and I wanted nothing more than to find the nearest bar and drink myself into oblivion I had to be strong for my boys.

For I might not ever be able to take back what I forgot today and I could never take the place of their mother; I could, for the moment, be the best damn father I could be.


End file.
